


to the ends of the earth, would you follow me

by sylviadraft



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Star Wars: A New Dawn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24155353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylviadraft/pseuds/sylviadraft
Summary: A series of drabbles based on angsty tumblr prompts. Probably going to lean more hurt/comfort than just straight angst because Kanan and Hera have been through enough.
Relationships: Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Comments: 3
Kudos: 42





	1. Stay. Please. Just… stay.

The blaster fire comes out of nowhere. Up until then, the opt had been going well, or, as well as an opt of theirs can go. Hera’s halfway up the gangway, when she feels Kanan run into her, pushing her down into the cold metal. She hears him grunt with pain, and smells burnt flesh. He’s been hit.

Her mind goes blank. Kanan’s been shot. Panic threatens to overwhelm her, but Kanan’s life is too important.

“Chopper! close the door now! Get us out of here!” 

She’s screaming into the com, and her tone must carry the gravity of the situation because Chopper doesn’t argue. Kanan is still moaning on the ground. _He’s still alive_. Hera tries to move him as gently as she can, but he is bigger than her and requires some man handling.

“Hera...Hera” his voice is full of pain, and Hera tries to comfort him before she hoists him up on the kitchen table.

“It’s alright Kanan, I’ve got you.”

In the morning, Kanan will complain that she “wasted” pain medication on him, but he’s not able to argue with her now. After Hera is certain he’s sufficiently drugged up, she begins the slow process of removing his armor. 

Kanan was very lucky, his shoulder guard caught most of the fire. _Not lucky enough_. Hera sighs when she sees his singed shirt. 

“Chop, I need a bacta patch.”

Kanan is making less noise, but he’s still breathing. Chopper comes around the corner with the medkit. The droid must understand how tense Hera is because he refrains from the usual insulting comments he makes around Kanan. 

“Thank you Chopper,” Hera murmurs. Her hands shake while she applies the bacta and she works carefully. Hera doesn’t even realize she’s been holding her breath until she sets the wrap in place. She starts to get up, her legs are cramping, but Kanan jerks at the loss of contact. 

“Her..stay...” Kanan slurs out, Hera’s not even sure he’s entirely awake. 

“What Kanan? What’s wrong?”

“Stay. Please.” his hand moves to hers. “Just...stay.”

Hera’s mind goes blank. When Kanan’s eyes meet hers they are wide with fear. She smoothes her hand over his, and settles back down.  
“I’ll stay.”

“Everyone...leaves me...don’t...don’t...”

_I’ll never leave, I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing Kanan and Hera so I hope I did them justice! Prompts come from justawriterwithdreams prompt list: angst #2!


	2. tell me a story

They don’t get down time like this very often, so Kanan and Hera take advantage of any spare moment they can find. Kanan’s still healing, the blaster bolt didn’t cause any major damage but it leaves a scar, and Kanan’s side still groans in protest whenever he moves too quickly. He thought he was hiding the pain well, until he overheard Hera ask Fulcrum for a simple job. The job is about as simple as they come. Hole up on some outer rim planet Kanan doesn’t even bother to learn the name of, and report any signs of imperial activity. 

So far, Kanan and Hera have sat at a bar and looked around, gone to the market and looked around, sat at another bar and looked around. It’s the kind of low energy task Kanan needs to help the healing process, but Kanan thinks losing his mind to boredom might become a bigger issue than his side. 

One night, after a particularly bland day of people watching, Hera drops a bottle of Corellian brandy in front of him. 

“Want a drink?” 

“Hera Syndulla, I thought you’d never ask.”

It’s not the best brandy he’s ever had, but it is certainly not the worst. They are about two drinks in, when Kanan says, 

“Tell me a story.”

This is dangerous territory. It creates an opening for Hera to ask about his past, and in his current state he might tell her more than he intends to. But he can’t help it, this pull towards Hera. He wants to know more, he needs to know more. 

“What kind of story?” 

“Oh anything really...tell me about Ryloth,” This is too far, this is into childhood. “A happy story about Ryloth.” Kanan amends. 

“A happy story about Ryloth.” Hera sits for a minute. “Ryloth isn’t a very happy place.” 

“You must have at least one happy moment from your childhood.” 

“Do you?” She leans in close, her hands on either side of his, their fingers brush. Normally Kanan can push down his feelings for Hera, but the alcohol is warm in his stomach and Hera smells like fresh air, and grass, and freedom-

“I asked you first.” Pull it together Jarrus.

Hera gives him a small smile and pulls back slightly. She thinks for a moment, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. 

“We used to throw parties, it didn’t happen very often, especially after the war started. My mother would make what food she could find, and the whole village would come. The adults would stay up late into the night dancing. They always put the children to bed early, but I would stand by the window and watch them dance.” Her face breaks into a smile. “My mother was very beautiful, she was a beautiful dancer.” 

“I’m sure she was.” He doesn’t know what to say, he never had a mother. Or, never knew his mother. After the war ended, he thought about searching her up. Sometimes he would dream about her, he imagined she was kind and beautiful. But too often her face would morph into Depa Billaba, and he would wake, screaming, to visions of his master's death.

“What about you?”

“Me?” he plays dumb.

“Your childhood.” Hera rolls her eyes. 

“My childhood? There’s not much to tell. I’d rather talk about you, sometimes it feels like my life didn’t really start until I met you.”

Hera throws her head back in a laugh, and Kanan smiles along with her. She thinks it’s a line, a coy comment to win her heart. She doesn’t know that truer words have never been spoken, and he prays she never finds out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you all like this one! Originally I thought this one would be a little happier, but it kind of got away from me. Once again, prompt is from justawriterwithdreams on tumblr!


	3. I thought I lost you.

Hera wakes to screaming. 

The bunk is dark, and it takes a moment for her to fully come to her senses before she realizes that Kanan is the one screaming. 

She should be cautious, after all, she has no idea what is going on outside of her door. But Kanan is _screaming_. Hera practically throws herself off the bed and sprints out of the cabin. Her bare feet slip on the cold floor. She hears Chopper beep as she flies past him. The astromech seems confused instead of scared, which probably means they aren’t under attack. 

Hera throws open the door to Kanan’s bunk. He’s thrashing back and forth on his bed, crying out.

“Kanan,” Hera whispers. This is uncharted territory. Would it be best just to shake him awake? Or whisper until he slowly comes to? “Kanan?” She moves closer to the bed. 

“Don’t...stop! Don’t! I can’t, I can’t!” He sits up in bed, his hands reach out and wrap around Hera’s wrists. The sudden movement causes Hera to shout, and Kanan’s eyes snap open.

“Kanan?” 

“Hera,” He collapses into her side. “Hera,”

“It’s okay, it was just a bad dream.”

“A bad dream...”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Nightmares aren’t an unusual occurrence on the Ghost. The two of them have seen their fair share of horrors, but this one seems...different. 

“No.”

“Kanan-” He starts to move away from her and Hera softens her approach. “I have them too, sometimes it helps to talk about them.”

“It was just,” Kanan shakes his head, “It was more...lifelike than usual. I thought,” His voice catches and drops to a whisper. “I thought I lost you.”

Kanan sounds like he is confessing, and the tone of his voice sends shivers up Hera’s spine. 

“You...you thought I died?” She tries to pick her words carefully. Kanan laughs, but it is low and sad, _not carefully enough_.

“Yeah I thought you...died.” The word falls flat, and Hera gets the feeling that Kanan isn’t being totally honest with her. 

“Kanan, I-”

“It’s okay, captain.” The formal title makes her sit up, “I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll be fine. You can go back to sleep.”

“Kanan, you know you can always talk to me-”

“I know. Goodnight.”

It is a disminal, and not a very nice one at that. 

_”He’s probably just tired. Or embarrassed.”_

In the morning Kanan will brew caff and Hera will go over their plans and everything will be back to normal. But there’s something about Kanan’s words, _I thought I lost you_ , that keeps Hera awake until well into the early morning hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late updated, I hope it was alright! I've started working on a sort of happier piece to go along with this. The chapters will be a little longer and there will be a little more of a cohesive plot. This one is late because I've been spending most of my time working on that, I'm hoping to have the new story up in about a week! 
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter! thank you to everyone who's been reading!


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